


Green-Eyed

by Hoodoo



Category: Rick and Morty
Genre: Aftercare, Explicit Language, Explicit Sexual Content, F/M, Handcuffs, Jealousy, Oral Sex, Teasing, Toying, Vaginal Sex
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-03-26
Updated: 2018-03-26
Packaged: 2019-04-08 10:02:09
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,538
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14102976
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Hoodoo/pseuds/Hoodoo
Summary: Rick is mildly jealous over something he should not be, so you give him something to be jealous about.





	Green-Eyed

**Author's Note:**

> from anon tumblr prompt: _jealous Rick/making Rick jealous_

“Stop it. J-j-just fucking _stop it.”_

You look up with surprise at the venomous flavor to the words.

“What? Stop what?” you asked.

Rick lifted his upper lip and leaned close to hiss privately in your ear, “Stop licking and sucking on that ice cream cone like-like you’re giving the best head of your life.”

“But I wasn’t—“

“Don’t lie to me!” he interrupted.

His daughter’s eyes flick into the rear view mirror to the two of you.

You hadn’t been doing anything deliberately. You were just enjoying it. But Rick looked hot and bothered, so he was obviously reading more into it. Now you have two choices: bite the treat with teeth and ferocity that would put him off, or play it up to tease him more. 

Keeping direct eye contact with him, you choose the latter. You roll your tongue around the ice cream before putting your whole mouth over it. You even throw in a little moan, for his ears only, for good measure. 

Rick snarled again but can’t do much more than that, here in the back seat of the car with his daughter and grandson in the front seats. 

⁂

That night, he’s all groping hands and demanding, dirty suggestions. There’s no patience in him at all. After a particularly painful pinch to a nipple coupled with an unpleasant dig of fingers into your pussy— _through_ your panties, and well before you were ready—you slap a hand on his chest, hard, and bring everything to a halt. 

“What?” he protests.

“You’re being a dick!”

“Yeah, so? You’re-you’re-you’re the one who was being all slutty with an ice cream cone today, making me jeal-jealous—“

“You were jealous of an ice cream cone?”

“You were _making_ me jealous of an ice cream cone!” he counters, and tries to surge to grab your tits again. 

You grab both his wrists to keep him off you. “Rick, wait. Wait! I have an idea!”

He growls his irritation but you scoot off the bed, out of his reach, and pull open the drawer in the bedside table where you keep your playthings. He’s still impatient, but now curious too. Hiding what you’ve retrieved, you order,

“Hold out your hands and close your eyes.”

His eyes lock onto yours with annoyance but you just cock a hip and wait. Finally, with a sigh—and because you could have gotten anything out of that drawer, from anal beads to a vibrator to a ball gag to cock ring, and piqued his curiosity—he does what you ask. His eyes close and he presents his hands to you, palms up, greedy for whatever you’re offering. 

You buckle cuffs around his wrists and attach a double-ended snap hook to the D-ring on the left one. Rick watches you—you never expected him to actually keep his eyes closed—and allows you to reposition him on the bed. Lying back with his arms stretched over his head, you put the snap hook behind one of the decorative scrolls of ironwork on the headboard, and attach both his wrists together. He’s lain flat on the mattress and vulnerable.

His breath is already coming a little faster, and his cock lies hard against his belly. 

“You were jealous of an ice cream cone?” you repeat. You reach into the drawer again and extract one more toy. “Then you’re going to be insanely jealous of this.”

You hold up your favorite dildo.

He snorts and rolls his eyes.

Ignoring his disdain, you straddle his stomach, too far north for his cock to have contact with you, and too far south for him to be able to lift his head and reach you either. Deliberately, just like it’s that ice cream cone that apparently turned him green-eyed with envy, you lick the head of the dildo. Your tongue slips around it, and open your mouth to take it in.

Silicone dicks aren’t a substitute for the real thing, but you put on a show for him, pretending it’s his cock: sucking, loosening your jaw to put almost the whole thing in your mouth, moaning a little around it. Like a real blow job, you don’t try to keep all your spit in your mouth; excess drips down your chin and falls to Rick’s chest. He shifts a little under you, and you open your eyes.

“What-whatever, baby,” he grunts, like he’s bored. “Watching you slobber on that poor-that shitty facsimile of a dick isn’t that great—“

You reach one wet hand behind yourself and discover his cock is still hard. He’s a liar.

Rick’s hips jerk just a little as you touch him.

His voice changes to a suggestive tone as your fingers curl to encircle his shaft. “—why don’t you, you just scoot backwards a little, baby . . . I can f-feel how wet your pussy is, I can f-feel it on my stomach—“

You don’t need him to tell you how turned on you are. Trussing his hands and being on top of him without him running the show is an exhilarating rush. You ignore his proposal.

Instead you smirk at him, and throw a leg over his side to get off.

You also ignore his complaint as you do. 

Shifting around on the mattress, you shuffle until you’ve turned completely around, and settle onto him again. Now, although you’re still straddling his stomach, you lean forward so your head is towards his knees and your pussy is on display. If you were situated a little closer to his face, your mouth would be in proximity of his cock and the two of you would be 69ing, but that wasn’t your goal. 

Immobile, Rick whines a little. Your tits are on either side of his cock and he moves his hips for some friction there. You let him have what little stimulation he can get mostly rubbing against your sternum, but you don’t help him. His whine turns into a growl of frustration and you glance over your shoulder at him.

“You weren’t jealous watching me blow a toy instead of you?” you ask. “Then what about this?”

Without waiting for his answer, you hold yourself up with one arm and twist the other—dildo still in your hand—back around your hips. With only a little maneuvering, you slip the toy into your pussy and fuck yourself with it.

Legs spread to give him the best view, you lift your hips to meet each thrust of the dildo. Rick had been right; your pussy was wet just thinking about teasing him and what you were going to do to push him further. The noises from the toy in your pussy are squelching. The noises from your mouth are exaggerated for his benefit: wanton and shameless moans and gasps.

You’re tormenting him but it’s torment for you too. It feels good but it’s not exactly what you want; even though you get control the pace and depth the position is awkward. If this was all for you you wouldn’t be propped up above him unable to touch your own clit. But your aim is to drive Rick crazy below you, with a front seat to an uncensored sex show: your shaved pussy being pounded, shiny from the wet you’re producing, the sounds and smell of sex that he is not allowed to participate in—

Rick makes a strangled, guttural noise and his entire body jerks up against you. It makes you smug to know what you’re doing is working. You move the dildo a little faster.

“You-you-you’re a little _tease,”_ Rick sputters. 

“Mmm-hmm,” you answer, making the response a little gasp-y and flavoring them with need.

“Why don’t you-why don’t you just—“

You throw another look back to him. “Why don’t I just what, Rick?”

Your hand presses the dildo into yourself deeply, and clenching your pussy, you hold it in place. You can see that he wants to act detached, like this is also boring him, but his eyes can’t help leaving yours to lock on what you’re doing to yourself again and his question is left unfinished. 

“Why don’t I move off you so you can breathe a little better?” you suggest. “Why don’t I lay down beside you, leave you tied up, and finish myself off? Why don’t I just forget this whole thing, because you’re obviously _not_ jealous in the least of my favorite toy?”

With each rhetorical, slightly sarcastic suggestion, you push and pull your dildo to the rhythm of your words. During the last one, you also give it a twist, rotating it inside you, which makes you gasp loudly at the sensation. 

Rick moans a little, at that. 

When you’re able to look at him again, he’s flushed and hasn’t bothered to remove the excess drool from his lip, watching your movements with intense interest. You glance down; his cock is still erect and seeping pre-come from the tip; the somewhat sticky fluid has left a line between your tits when you lowered yourself a little further onto him. He’s also broken out into a light sweat.

“Ba-baby, please don’t—“ he tries again. There’s a bit more desperation in his voice now. “Please! Just—oh—j-just—”

You decide he’s had enough taunting—truthfully, it’s you who has had enough—so you yank the dildo out with a squelching sound. 

He moans again at the motion and noise and you muffle him by moving backwards towards his face, and pushing your pussy onto his mouth.

Although still bound, Rick doesn’t hesitate to use his tongue and lips with amazing precision. He alternates using the tip of his tongue around your clit to putting a solid pressure on it with the wider part, making you squirm. Occasionally he gives you a break and laps long, heavy licks through your folds, just for variety. 

Because of your shift in position, he also manages to bend his knees and plants his feet on the mattress, lifting his pelvis upward. You infer his meaning, and can’t deny him.

Abandoning the dildo, you grasp his cock by the base with your wet hand and swallow him. The quickness of your mouth around him makes his hips lurch a little, forcing his cock a little deeper than you’d planned for, but you’d been with Rick long enough to have expected it. That’s what your hand around him was for; to buffer him from making you retch. Still, you know he likes it when you take his entire length, so you accommodate, just at your discretion, not his. 

You blow him as best you can while he’s eating you out, which isn’t that good because he’s apparently trying to make you as hot and bothered as you did him previously. You can’t focus on his cock with him licking and sucking your cunt. The joke’s on him, though; playing with yourself primed you and you’re climbing more quickly to an orgasm than you expected.

Rick knows you too, and when you can’t even keep his cock between your lips at all due to the gasps and moans he’s pulling from you, he stops, leaving you hanging. 

“Had enough, baby?” he asks from between your thighs.

You’re trembling and are half tempted to shove yourself back onto him just to make him finish the job. Instead, you take the opportunity to catch your breath a moment, then swoop down to take him in completely again. 

Like before, his hips buck, and this time you don’t stop him. 

The head of his cock hits the back of your throat. If he was in charge, he’d keep it there until you ran out of breath, so as a courtesy to him you let it stay in place for almost the same amount of time before pulling up again. 

His hips follow you, like you’re a magnet, but you don’t allow him to dictate anything.

Still feeling a little shaky and even with a sweet ache from the denial of climaxing in your belly, you move your groin away from him again, moving to a more upright position but still facing away from him.

“You had enough yet, baby?” you ask in return. 

As you wait for an answer, you leisurely pull his cock with your wet hand. 

“I-I—you can’t stand it either!” he accuses, in between moans.

“So we’re done? Wouldn’t it be better to wait, like this was a warm-up?“

“Don’t you fucking dare!” Rick thunders, but there’s more desperation in his voice than threat.

You laugh and decide enough is enough. You still don’t release him—you’ve enjoyed the power over him too much—but you do shift your position again to straddle his hips now, instead of his abdomen. Moving downward, you keep hold of his cock to steady it and sink down with a glorious push into your pussy. 

You’re wet enough from his attention and loose enough from the dildo he sinks deeply, all the way, balls’ deep, into you. A drawn out moan erupts from your throat, and the sound is echoed by Rick below you.

With no use of his hands, Rick has no control of your pace or speed, but you fuck him hard anyway. The baiting and provocation you’d done—not to mention his lip service—affected you too, so you only want to chase and capture that orgasmic high that had been so close before. 

Rick fills you completely; you don’t indulge in long, showy thrusts but instead grind against him, using your core for movement, keeping him as deep as possible. He does keep his knees bent and forces a steady pressure up against you. Even that is just the participation you need from him. 

The combination of your and his moans fill the room. 

Just as you’re almost, almost to the point of no return on your orgasm, Rick chokes out a cry and comes. He jerks a little bit, and although you know it’s probably not true, you imagine feeling his cock pump his ejaculate into you. That sends you over the edge too, and you grasp his knees for support as you climax as well. 

You give yourself a minute or so to come back to earth, then carefully peel yourself off him.

A gush of wet—your own juices and semen—flows out of your pussy as you do. You grab several tissues and shove them between your legs to sop up the excess.

Your immediate needs attended to, you turn back to Rick, drop a tissue over the mess you’ve left on his cock and lower belly, and deftly release him from his stretched position. He groans in relief as he’s able to bring his arms down, and wipes himself up.

“Oh, poor baby,” you soothe. “Do you want me to rub your shoulders?”

“I’m old, so yes,” he replies honestly, and you oblige. 

As you work the soreness out of his muscles, you ask if what you did was okay?

He snorts. “I g-guess it’ll teach me to not-not be jealous of a damn ice cream cone.”

“Hmm . . .” you ponder. “Or maybe it’ll make me try harder to make you more jealous next time.”

Rick snorts again, but you catch his smile. 

_fin._


End file.
